Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 20:37:21 +0000
From: Dan and Mary
Subject: What's a Master To Do?
Two weeks doesn't seem like a long time, unless you're waiting to meet your
new slave, that is. Not only that, but it was going to be my FIRST gay
experience as well. I met Kyle online and today is going to be our first
meeting in person. He had answered an ad I placed in Yahoo! Personals
indicating that I was seeking a young bi-curious or gay submissive guy who
was interested in rubber and bondage. I admitted that I was a novice but I
also knew I was ready to assert myself and make my fantasies real. I told
Kyle up front that I planned on subjecting him to the full gamut of bondage
paraphernalia, including gags, collars, hoods, harnesses, plugs, dildos...
you name it. In addition I let Kyle know that he was going to be my
sneaker-slut, meaning that my predilection for canvas sneakers was going to
play a central role in our relationship. I told him that we were both going
to wear sneakers and that he would have to lick them whenever I insisted.
None of my forbearances seemed to deter Kyle so a meeting was indeed in
order!
It was 7:02 when the doorbell rang. Kyle was late. For that he would be
punished, but all in good time, I thought to myself. After all I didn't want
to scare him right away... at least not until I had made him my fucktoy. I
opened the door and beckoned Kyle in with a nod. "You're late," I remarked.
He apologized softly. Good. I stepped back a few feet. I told him I wanted
to look at him.
Damn, he looked every bit as cute as his pic. Now I'm not one who would
usually refer to a guy as cute, but Kyle had a very boyish - almost feminine
- quality. He had dark hair with green eyes and a look of innocence about
him. He had a slender build and I knew that I'd enjoy bullying him around,
since I was quite a bit larger than him. Hitherto I had really not thought
much about kissing, only fucking and sucking, but Kyle had noticeably full,
soft lips, so who knows..? Maybe I'd make out with him, maybe I wouldn't. I
had guessed however that his lips were going to feel good elsewhere!
"No talking now. Turn around," I ordered, testing the waters, seeing how
he'd obey. He obligingly faced the door. He was dressed as I told him: no
jewelry, just a plain white t-shirt and a pair of 501's. I told Kyle that I
had gone on quite a shopping spree for sneakers in his size, so he could
wear any shoes he wanted when he came over, with the understanding that I
would of course fit him with a more appropriate pair soon enough. From the
rear I could see that notwithstanding his narrow shoulders, Kyle had a nice
round ass. Yeah, this is going to work out after all, I thought to myself.
Was I going to fuck him in the sling first or bent over the horse or
doggy-style..? Well, I was getting a bit ahead of myself. First I had better
inspect the rest of the package.
"Turn, now KNEEL," I commanded. Kyle did so. "Now kiss my sneakers." Again
Kyle obliged me, offering a full kiss to the rubber toe cap on each of my
white Chuck Taylors. "Stand up now and STRIP."
Kyle leaned over and removed his Nike cross trainers and his socks. Good
riddance, I thought. I didn't have much a fondness for modern sneaks. Sure I
understood that performance-wise Nikes and Addidas were better engineered,
but I still delighted in the appearance and feel of classic canvas. As I
watched Kyle take off his shirt, I was pleased that he had nicely defined
abs and fair skin, with almost no trace of body hair. Mmmmmm. Very nice. My
little swimmer boy. He'll sure look nice in a plain white strapped bathing
cap and some sleek white ladies' Keds. Kyle might not have known it, but I
was planning on making him smooth everywhere...
Next Kyle began unbuttoning his jeans. I could tell that he was noticeably
excited when he stepped out of his denim, and I do mean noticeably. Kyle
paused for a moment and then removed his plain white cotton briefs (also
specified by me), thereby confirming what I had already guessed. This guy
was definitely hung!! Who was going to be fucking who again? He wasn't
totally hard and yet he must've measured an easy eight inches with the girth
to match. And he was cut too. Good, since I didn't really know if I'd be all
that comfortable if my first cock looked all that much different then my
own. I projected on him what that thing must look like when it was fully
erect. I resisted any temptations in our earlier correspondence to inquire
about his cock. I figured I'd let him surprise me. And surprise me he did! I
wanted to drop to my knees and take that hog into my novice mouth right then
and there, but that wouldn't really be the most dominant thing to do, would
it? Remember, I was still trying to assert myself over him, not the other
way around. Besides, we'd have plenty of time later for some mutual.
"Very nice," I added nonchalantly, trying not to let my enthusiasm betray
me. I put on a pair of disposable latex gloves - "...time for a more
detailed examination of the slave," I mocked. The gloves were mostly for
effect, as I had wanted to make it seem clinical and thus a bit more
humiliating. "Put your hands behind your head... now open up," I commanded.
I acted like I was checking his mouth and teeth. "Now suck," I ordered. Kyle
sucked my fingers as I moved them in and out of his mouth for a while. Next
I played with his nipples a bit, pinching and twisting them in turn. I
smiled as Kyle winced, both when I teased his nipples and soon after when I
kneaded his balls in my gloved hand. I then focused my manual manipulations
on his magnificent cock. It felt awesome in my hand, massive, pulsing... so
very real, so unlike the lifeless rubber dildos I had played with so much
before today. What might it feel like inside me? What would it taste like?
What would his cum taste like? Would it taste like mine that I had dared to
sample in prior states of arousal and curiosity?
Focus, focus, focus... those are questions for later, I reminded myself.
Right now I need to introduce this prize to some bondage gear and make him
mine. After seeing this much, I certainly wasn't about to let him get away!
Kyle still had his hands raised and clasped behind his neck. I fetched a
pair of two inch padded leather cuffs and just like a cop, I moved behind
him and grabbed hold of each arm, twisting each in turn behind his lower
back before fastening them together with the leather restraints. I had
surmised from Kyle's appearance that I was considerably stronger than him. I
was, so I was a little rough with him, asserting myself physically. He
didn't seem to mind.
Nor did he seem to mind when I produced a single-strap ball gag and reached
around his head, holding it up for him to ponder. I didn't know if Kyle had
ever worn a ball gag before - I never asked - but he instinctively opened
widely to receive the red rubber ball. As I fastened the strap tightly
around his head, forcing the rubber ball deep into his mouth, I could tell
he became more resigned to his descent into bondage and submission. He
became resigned, and I grew more and more excited.
Still positioned behind him, I tugged on Kyle's wrist restraints with my
left arm, raising his bound arms, thus causing him to lean forward. "Bend
over. Time for ass inspection." I rubbed his hairless cheeks for a few
moments, admiring their roundness, letting anticipation build. Arrogantly I
then spat on my gloved fingers and wasted no time in finding his anus. I
pushed my gloved finger slowly into his ass. First only a knuckle, then two
knuckles, before withdrawing it from his ass briefly only to reenter Kyle
with a kind of twisting motion. I began ramming my finger inside him a bit
more frequently, removing it for only a moment before ramming both my fore
and index fingers inside of him. I split my fingers in a scissor-like manner
to stretch his anus a bit. Kyle whimpered softly through his gag. I
admonished him for making noises and continued to massage his rectum.
Since this was my first encounter with a guy, I was still a little
apprehensive, even if I didn't necessarily show it. All along I was worried
that I wouldn't really be into the scene once it actually materialized. I
questioned whether I was really ready to fuck a guy or if my fantasies had
merely gotten the better of me. Well, here's the deal. My cock was bulging
against my jeans as it had been from the minute Kyle got here, and I had my
fingers up this guy's ass, and I knew I wanted to fuck him, so I'd have to
say, so far so good. My debut as a Dom is a success! I had the strangest
sense of pride about it all. Only I wasn't going to take him right away. He
was going to have to wait.
First I needed to get Kyle into some sneakers. I had a few pairs already set
out. I didn't know which pair I'd prefer until I actually met him in person,
so I laid out an all-purpose trio, guaranteed to suit any sneaker
fetishist's mood: the red, white, and blue trio, consisting of red Converse
All-Stars, white canvas Jack Purcells, and navy blue Vans, definitely old
school! All new, all canvas with chunky rubber soles, and all in a 'dainty'
men's size 8. Kyle's small feet will prove a blessing, since he'll be able
to wear a woman's size 10 comfortably (and 10's are the largest women's size
available without a fuss). When I really want to treat Kyle like a sissy,
he'll be forced to wear white Keds, but for now I'm feeling the blue Vans
will do the trick.
I approached Kyle and laid the shoes at his feet. "These are your new
sneakers, slave. What do you think? They're kind of nautical, kind of
skate..." I continued, as I gestured for Kyle to raise his left leg. After
guiding his foot into its new canvas prison, I laced the sneaker very
tightly, just to keep with the bondage theme. First the left, then the
right. Did I mention how much I like sneakers? The look, the feel - yes,
even the smell and taste... I love the taste of rubber. Clean rubber, that
is, houseworn only. I'm not into dirty sneakers that have been worn outside.
I really wanted to offer a suckle to Kyle's Vans, right then, but how's that
going to look if his new master is worshipping at his feet? Besides, once
Kyle knew his place, maybe then I'd treat him with some sneaker-69 where
we'd lick each others feet before migrating to a more traditional 69. It was
just a matter of time.
One more detail I thought. I wanted to get Kyle started with some rubber.
Nothing fancy or overwrought, right now, just something simple and we'd take
it from there. A swim cap should do nicely - not the newer, sleeker racing
caps, mind you - but the old-fashioned variety complete with chin strap. I
feel that the more straps you have around you, the sooner you'll realize
you're not in control. A tightly strapped cap feels more restrictive, just
like tightly-tied sneakers. Later the same will be true of restrictive
rubber briefs and chastity devices as well as more elaborate gags. It's
double duty, seeing as I get off on their appearance and they're all fine
reminders of Kyle's new status as My submissive little rubber slut.
I carefully smoothed all of the wrinkles from the rubber cap, also taking
care to tuck all of Kyle's hair under its rubber confines. I took the time
to work the rubber chinstrap underneath Kyle's ballgag because I figured I
would have need of Kyle's pouty little mouth long before I felt like
removing his swim cap. The plan was to get him into more rubber as the night
progressed, not less. But not everything was going to be gratis, Kyle would
instead have to earn each new rubber raiment.
Like now, for instance, I decided to introduce him to my waiting crotch. I
put my hand on Kyle's back and led him over to the couch, then I had him
kneel facing the couch. I could tell he knew what was next. After I sat down
in front of him, I began to reach around his head and loosen the gag strap.
I didn't remove the gag entirely; instead I let it hang loosely around his
neck. I figured I'd probably use again, so why make more work for myself?
Kyle had his head bowed slightly. I wiped from his mouth the drool left from
the gag, using my finger to moisten his lips further. "How are you doing,
slave?" I asked.
"Fine, sir," Kyle replied.
"I prefer to be called Master," I countered.
"Yes, Master."
"Do you think this is going to work out? Do you still want to be my slave?"
I asked. Kyle shook his head affirmatively. "What's that, slave? I can't
hear you. Are anxious to be my very own rubber sissy?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Then why don't you show me what a good little cocksucker you are," I
mocked as I pulled Kyle's head down on my lap. Since his arms were still
cuffed behind his back, I adjusted Kyle's torso so that his weight would
bear on the front of the couch and my inner thighs. I removed my belt and
unzipped my jeans only to reveal the black rubber briefs I was wearing
beneath my street clothes. My cock was bulging against the taut latex and it
swelled to its full girth once I pulled aside my briefs.
As I said before, this was my first time with a guy. I never really knew
until now how I'd respond. I figured it was probably common for first-timers
to question themselves, but when Kyle's warm lips found first the underside
and then the top of my penis, I knew that this was for me. I mean, who
wouldn't want an attractive mate, obligingly serving at one's crotch? Almost
no compromise, no questions. Just the sheer force of one's will and
perversions. I could dress him as I chose. I could bind him as I chose. I
could use him, and yes I would abuse him. After all, whether I had
previously considered myself straight, gay, bi-curious, or whatever, none of
that now mattered.
Kyle's wet, warm kisses were the perfect prelude to his well-timed
deep-throat of my throbbing dick. Although I wasn't as large as Kyle, I was
healthily endowed with a full seven inches, and yet Kyle was able to take
most of my cock into his skilled mouth. I rubbed the base of my penis and my
balls a bit with my left hand and I held down Kyle's head with my right arm.
No matter, I could tell that this little suck-pig was eager to please
whether I held him there or not.
Leaning forward, I could not reach Kyle's ass without comprising my own
pleasurable position. I would've fingered his ass once again, but instead I
directed my attentions to my belt which I finished removing from my pant
loops. I let the leather reach what I could not, allowing the wide leather
belt to glide softly over Kyle's white little ass. I lifted the belt upward,
faking Kyle out each time, causing him to flinch and clench his ass. When I
finally did reign blows upon his naked ass, I whipped him lightly. More a
show of power than anything else, I wasn't intent on interrupting his
pleasing pace of worship. Besides, I knew I'd have my chance to spank his
ass later, when true punishment was meted, on the horse, the X-rack, the
examination table... wherever. Right now my immediate plan was to allow Kyle
a Taste, and then to get him prepared and into more gear while I regained my
strength. Not a problem - I could tell that Kyle was going to facilitate
many orgasms tonight.
When I was about to cum, I purposely made no attempt to hide it, writhing my
hips about and thrusting into Kyle's mouth. Holding his head firmly, I was
trying to set a precedent. I wanted Kyle to know that he was going to accept
my offerings, each and every time he blew me. Novice or not, I could expect
no less of my slave. And cum I did. Mightily. The kind of orgasm that leaves
you panting, almost surprised and short of breath. Kyle, proving to be the
top-notch sub I judged him, spilled not a drop of my precious cum, which,
judging by my guttural orgasm, must've been quite the mouthful. Yes!!
Then I did something I would never had suspected: I grabbed Kyle by his
armpits and pulled him on top of me and began kissing him. Well, not really
kissing, I guess, at least not in the romantic sense. It was more like
full-bore making out, deep-frenching... lips locked, tongues flailing about,
exploring each other, my cum all-too-fresh in our mouths.
As I stated earlier, I had never fantasized about kissing a guy. Sure I had
wanted his cock in my mouth, in my ass, my cock in his mouth, in his ass...
just my convenient preconceived, archetypical gay exchange. Kissing always
seemed, well, too intimate. I know that sounds kind of backwards: Cock's
o.k. - kissing's not. But it made sense at least in terms of power exchange,
and I was much more obsessed about the B&D and the rubber and the sneakers
and everything else except the intimacy. Kissing seemed too mutual, if that
makes any sense. That's why making out with my supposed slave surprised me
so. It was one more mind-blowing facet my foray, and still the night was
young, oh so young.
We only kissed for about three, maybe four minutes, which I know doesn't
sound like a long time, but it might as well be forever when it's your first
time. I sampled all of the textures of his mouth and tongue. I tasted what
there was to taste: a trace of rubber, maybe from the ball gag or perhaps
from my briefs, even a hint of salty leather at the sides of Kyle's mouth
where the gag strap bit deeply. All imagined I'm sure, for the taste of my
cum was heavy in our soul kiss. Kyle's weight was upon me, as I had leaned
back further and pulled him on top of me. I felt that magnificent cock of
his, sticking somewhere in the gather of my jeans, poking perchance by my
crotch.
Damn it, if I was naked, I might've let him fuck me, but what kind of master
would that make me?? Kissing a slave, lusting after the slave's magnificent
cock, wanting My slave to impale me with his manhood? Was I the poorest
excuse for a master or what? What about the perfectly orchestrated build-up?
The inspection, the assertion, the foreplay, the bondage, the rubber
outfits..? What about the big, red rubber enema bag which hung ominously
ready in the bathroom, or the rubber sheets and restraints which covered my
bed? What about the bondage furniture? The whips, the crops, the paddles?
It was all going to have to wait. It might prove me the poorest excuse of a
master around, but as we continued our kiss, I first removed my t-shirt, and
then kicked-off my sneakers. When I pushed Kyle off of me and onto the floor
lying on his back, I could see it in his knowing green eyes. Even as I
refastened the ball gag, clinging to whatever shred of mastery over him I
could, Kyle still knew I was going to fuck him. Or is it more accurate to
say that he was going to fuck me?
I stood up and stepped out of my jeans and then removed my latex briefs. I
dashed to my bedroom to gather the barest assortment of implements. When I
returned to the living room, I surveyed the scene: at my feet awaited
perfection. Now, seeing a guy lying bound and ball-gagged at your feet
wearing nothing but a white rubber swim cap and navy blue sneakers may not
be your idea of perfection, but at least disregard the endpoints of the head
and the feet for now and imagine what lies in between: a swimmer boy with
sort of a Trent Reznor or River Phoenix look to him with a Don Johnson cock.
Like I said, perfection at my feet.
My unbearable enthusiasm driving me to an inevitable merging, I paused long
enough for a few final preparations. First, I placed the items on the floor
next to Kyle. Let him stretch to discern their purpose. It won't change my
plans. Next, I quickly put my sneakers back on. Understand that my sneaker
fetish helps make it all work for me, in all of the fantasies, all of the
scenarios whereby I would be 'initiated.' I swore that when I gave my first
blow job, I would be wearing sneakers. Equally, when first I was to be
fucked by a man, it too would be with sneakers. I didn't know which
sneakers, whether they would be women's Keds or Jack Purcells or the white
canvas All-Stars I chose to wear this fateful evening. I guess in the end it
isn't going to matter. The fetish and the role-play made the fantasy work
for me. So too would they now help make it a reality.
Poor Kyle wouldn't get to watch the culmination of my zealous preparations,
for the first item I selected from among those I had fetched was a padded
leather blindfold which matched his gag nicely, if I do say so myself. Kyle
offered no visible protest as I fitted him with the blindfold. He'd get to
experience me, but he wouldn't get to watch. No, not this soon would he be
able to see his master in such a way. And speaking of mastery and what not,
maybe it's too late to portend myself as a stoic figure, but it's not too
late to assert my dominance over Kurt at least in one more regard: his mouth
was mine, his cock was soon to be mine, and right now, I reclaimed his ass.
Buttering his ass generously with lubricant, a plug soon follows. I'm sure
Kyle is surprised that I've fitted him with such a modest plug. Perhaps he
feels I am being merciful or just oblivious? Heck, even a novice ass could
easily accommodate this plug. Perhaps.
One thing's for sure: when I plugged Kyle's ass, whatever hint of fullness
Kyle had lost in the interim minutes had been regained. Between the plug and
me applying what I would call a generous swath of lube to his shaft, Kyle
swelled to full erection. I had already positioned myself straddling on top
of him, facing him. Now I raised my bottom and grabbed hold of his stunning
manhood and began rubbing it up and down my ass crack. I positioned the tip
of his penis by my anus and without much hesitation I took his length. I
mean, I did work just the tip of his penis in me twice, but after that, I
settled down slowly and very deliberately, letting him fill me completely.
It felt unbelievable, being so filled. I was amazed. I knew at that moment
that Kyle and I were going to be lovers for a long time.
I sat there for a few moments, allowing myself to settle down even further,
reaching back on my heels, grabbing hold of the brown rubber soles of my
sneakers. I began rocking to and fro ever so slightly, still adjusting to
Kyle's thickness. Soon I was riding him quite assuredly, in strokes of four
and five inches, perhaps twenty or thirtysome times before leaning forward
and letting him come out of my ass before thrusting back down upon him.
Once I found my rhythm, I fumbled behind me, between Kyle's legs. I was
searching for the hose that connected to the inflation bulb on Kyle's plug.
When I gave the bulb a few quick squeezes, I was confident that Kyle would
realize that he was fitted with no ordinary plug. No, instead I was going to
ride him while I pumped his plug to enormous proportions. Well, maybe not
enormous, since I was heavy upon him, but at least uncomfortable
proportions. I wanted to let him know who was in charge. My ass was filled
only because I wanted it that way. So then was his ass also filled because I
wanted it that way. I was still his Master.
I was going to let Kyle cum inside me, that much was sure. I wanted us both
spent. Then we would enjoy a short reprieve before resetting ourselves, and
readying ourselves for more bondage games, for more rubber frolics. Was it
going like I planned? No, it wasn't. Some things were way ahead of schedule,
some things were behind schedule, but it was divine nevertheless. Was it
premature of me to avail myself to Kyle's endowments? Maybe. Maybe I
could've been more reserved. But is that really what is required of a
master? Or was it alright for me to act selfishly, for my immediate
gratification, and incidentally my slave's, even at some cost to the
psychodrama? I reason it's justified. And was I indeed the poorest excuse
for a master, as I had speculated earlier?
Again I do not suppose I know. Only time will tell.
Your comments are always appreciated at tentamen@hotmail.com